


A part of the future

by wendywhite13



Series: The Belmont Family Legacy [2]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Family, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Time Skips, belmont family - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 05:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16570397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendywhite13/pseuds/wendywhite13
Summary: While this is technically related to the Netflix series, I tried to draw a little bit off the themes of the games, like SOTN and others featuring Trevor's descendants. Some things have changed, however, and the Belmont family is very different than the one in the games. It's sad, because time passing is sad, but I think overall it will be a more happy ending than the games gave us.





	1. Chapter 1

Adrian opened the door to find the wooden coffin before him, equally foreboding and welcoming. The sight reminded him of the last time he’d done this. It had been very different then.  
The memory of crawling through the Gresit catacombs came to his mind. He had stumbled, desperately, to the sarcophagus he knew lay down there, praying its location was still secure. Adrian had never tried to enter vampiric sleep before, wasn’t even sure if he could, but he had to try now. It was his only hope of survival. With each soft beat of his half-human heart, blood poured from the wound in his chest. Only the living death of vampiric hibernation could save him now.  
He had pulled off his torn overcoat and shirt, the fibers sticking in the blood and tissue at the edge of the wound, and pried open the sarcophagus with one hand, the other desperately trying to hold the two edges of his skin together. With every breath, he felt fainter and fainter. There had been little time to activate the room’s defensive mechanisms, and as he laid down alone in the dark metal box, Adrian just hoped his father wouldn’t find him.  
This couldn’t be more different. The wound had long faded to a faint white scar, which would just have been visible in the cheery gold light that filled the chamber he stood in now. Electric lights, stripped from his father’s castle, cast a soft glow at stark odds with the dark tomb under Gresit. They illuminated a large oil painting on the opposite wall, and a wooden coffin on a raised platform in the center. This coffin was much simpler than the elaborate metal and glass sarcophagus, but it looked a good bit more inviting. The biggest difference, however, was that this time, Adrian was not alone.  
He heard a soft creak as the wheelchair pulled up beside him. “I thought it would be nice to bring it down here from the main hall, so it would be the first thing you saw when you woke up,” said the old woman in the chair, gesturing at the oil painting. Adrian looked up. He had been so focused on the coffin he had failed to recognize the painting. Three familiar faces smiled back at him, a red-haired woman in blue robes, a rough-looking man with a whip at his side, and his own. Nearly ninety years had passed since the painting’s creation, but Adrian looked exactly the same.   
“Thank you,” he replied, smiling down at the woman beside him. Though it hurt his heart a little to look at those smiling faces, the idea that they would be there when he woke-if he woke-was oddly comforting.  
Trying to set those feelings aside for the time being, Adrian approached the coffin. Close-up, if was considerably larger than he had expected. “I did tell you just to get a standard coffin, right? Nothing expensive or fancy?”  
There was a soft tsk behind him and the old women replied in the tone of an exasperated grandmother, “Well, I didn’t want you to feel cramped!”  
I won’t feel anything, Adrian thought, that’s kind of the point of this. But he refrained from saying that. Instead, he opened the coffin’s lid.  
The inside was considerably more plush than necessary, with pillows and blankets and even a brightly colored quilt covering with a cheerful pattern of sunflowers. Perched on top of the quilt was crudely-made and somewhat deformed stuffed rabbit. It was unfortunately familiar, and Adrian picked it up.  
“Oh, no, no, I can’t take Harriet,” he said, trying to hand the doll back to the woman in the wheelchair. He remembered the first time he’d told everyone he was planning to return to hibernation. Some had cried, others stoically accepted the news, but Elisabetha, a sweet child of only five years, had bawled openly, clutching her ugly stuffed rabbit Harriet for comfort. Harriet was the little girl’s best friend. Adrian couldn’t take both himself and Harriet away from her.  
But the old woman pushed the doll back into his hands. “Elisabetha wanted to give it to you. She thought you’d have nightmares if you slept down here all alone. Wouldn’t let me leave without it. Put her mind to rest, no?”  
Adrian took the rabbit back and stared at it sadly. The enormity of what he was doing-what he was leaving-washed over him again. Little Elisabetha would grow up without him. By the time he saw daylight again, she would likely be dead. So would the woman next to him.  
“I…” he struggled to keep his voice steady. “I am so, so sorry to be leaving you all. I will always love you.”  
“Oh, father,” said Sonia Belmont, reaching up to take his face in one withered hand. “We all know that.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was five years since Dracula’s death, five years since Trevor had kissed him in the darkness of his childhood bedroom, that Adrian finally became a member of the Belmont family. He took his vows that day with his birth name, casting aside the name Alucard forever. It was no longer necessary for him to define himself by that title.  
The wedding took place in secret, for obvious reasons. The church would never approve, even if they thought that Adrian was human. But the Speakers were more tolerant about such things, and Sypha delightedly officiated the ceremony in the middle of a crowd of blue-robed celebrants. Speakers weren’t the only attendees. Little Adelaide watched silently from the front row.   
Adelaide had been Trevor’s find. The lone survivor of a vampiric raid on an isolated village, Adelaide had wandered from town to town, picking pockets to survive. Trevor found her after she unsuccessfully tried to walk off with the Morning Star, and had brought her, kicking and screaming, back to Adrian and Sypha. Though she was very young, life on the streets had made the girl cold, hard, stubborn, and apathetic-she was Trevor in miniature, and he’d loved her from the moment he’d seen her. Adrian, however, required some convincing. Though he had Trevor had officially been together for years at that point, he’d never even considered raising a family with him. It wasn’t like they could ever have biological children, and both Adrian and Trevor’s experiences with family had been traumatizing to say the least.  
But…in the wake of Dracula’s death, the Belmonts had been pardoned (“ex-excommunicated”, as Trevor put it) and he couldn’t deny that building a…legacy with the man he loved appealed to him greatly. And Wallachia was full of orphans left behind by Dracula and Carmilla’s wars. So it was that a new generation of Belmonts was born into a world that was finally ready for them. They were not biologically related to Trevor or his ancestors, but they were Belmonts none the less.  
After the wild child Adelaide came Quentin, orphan of one of the slain noble families of Gresit. Then Simon, from Styria. Finally, an unnamed baby found by Speakers, abandoned by the side of a river. Trevor had wanted to name the girl Lisa, but Adrian refused. That wound was still too fresh. Instead, Sonia, named for Trevor’s mother, became the last member of their family.   
They got to work making a new home for the children on the ruins of the Belmont estate, directly over the ancient Belmont hold. Once, as Adrian worked on stabilizing the ruined ceiling, he cast a glance over to the portrait of the old Belmont hanging on the wall. Leon, or whatever his name was. Adrian wondered what he would think about the Belmont house now sheltering children of a different bloodline, as well as the son of the Belmont’s ancient enemy. But Trevor had walked by at that moment with lumber for the stairs, kissing Adrian softly on the cheek as he did so, and Adrian forgot to worry about how Trevor’s ancestors would feel about him.  
Those first few decades passed like a dream. They rebuilt the Belmont house and family name. Together, they taught the children everything they knew-how to identify the night things, how to fight, how to read the ancient languages of magic, how to make medicines and poultices from plants. They spent their days with the children, and with the Speakers who came to visit, and spent their nights together. There was a time in his life when Adrian couldn’t have imagined being so happy.  
But as the years wore on, Trevor aged, and Adrian did not. When Trevor started to get wrinkles and white hair, it was a joke between them, how Trevor was a cradle-robber. When Trevor had to retire from hunting due to his bad knees, the joke was markedly less funny. When Trevor could no longer walk, and needed help eating and bathing, nothing was funny anymore at all.  
Adrian had thought about turning him many times, right up until the end. But Trevor refused. Adrian was never exactly sure why. The old Belmont pride perhaps, which Trevor could set aside enough to wed a vampire, but not to become one? It wasn’t as if Trevor was unaware of the pain he caused his husband. He constantly apologized to Adrian in those last few years, even though he never needed to. But he wouldn’t budge. Trevor would die human.   
If he couldn’t save Trevor by turning him immortal, Adrian decided he would put his love into caring for him, as much as he could. But love alone couldn’t keep a human heart beating forever. Nearly sixty years after Trevor had walked into Adrian’s life, he walked back out again. As Adrian stood next to their now-adult children and new grandchildren at the funeral, he didn’t wish that Trevor had become a vampire. Adrian wished that he could have been born human, and died at Trevor’s side.


	3. Chapter 3

Under Adrian’s watch, the Belmont family grew more and more prosperous, once again the noble monster-hunters of old. But time continued marching on.  
Adrian was routing a werewolf den in the south when he heard the news of his eldest daughter. Adelaide, cynical, hard, apathetic Adelaide, had grown into a fine hunter under Trevor’s teaching. When a coven of vampires attempted to take the isolated mountain town of Ela hostage, she held them off alone to allow the villagers time to escape. Adrian flew all night to reach her, but still arrived much too late. Trevor’s beloved protégé lay in front of the gates of Ela, surrounded by ash and blackened bones, the Morning Star clutched tight in her hand and a strange, sad smile frozen on her face.  
He had picked her up gently, his daughter’s skin as cold and pale as snow save for the thick red splashed down one side of her neck. “You did it,” he whispered into her hair. “All the villagers made it out. You saved them all.”  
Adelaide did not respond, not that he expected her to. Adrian carried her body back to the Belmont manor and laid her to rest beside her father. The funeral was small, but attended by many of the villagers of Ela and a large caravan of Speakers. At its center, in the white robes of the High Elder, came Sypha. Her sight was mostly gone, perhaps a consequence of spending her youth staring into magical fires and squinting at ancient books. She was as kind to him as she had always been, holding him while he cried for his lost husband and daughter. But Adrian noticed she kept repeating herself when she talked, and as the caravan was preparing to leave, she asked Adrian where Trevor was.  
“I…I’m not sure,” he said at last. “But…I think you’ll see him very soon.” Sypha had given him a warm smile at that, and Adrian was glad she could no longer see his face. One year later, when he received word of her death, he was heartbroken but not surprised. And the days kept passing.  
Quentin, who had never quite had the heart for hunting but had taken to medicine, left the mansion one day to return to Gresit. There, he opened a hospital based on the principles of his grandmother. It was in that hospital, while tending to the sick and wounded, he caught the lung infection that would eventually claim his life.  
When Adrian, Sonia, and Simon rode in to Gresit to claim his body and return it to the family plot, they were surprised to find the streets crowded with mourners-Quentin’s former patients, come to pay their respects. It was a vastly different scene than Adrian’s mother had faced, all those years ago. As the mourners came up to place flowers on the casket of their devoted doctor, Adrian reflected that his mother would have wept at the sight.  
Simon passed with less fanfare. He had retired early from hunting after a bad fall, and mostly stayed on the mansion grounds helping to train the younger generations. It was in his room there that he breathed out one night, and simply neglected to breath back in.  
The house wasn’t empty by any means. Adelaide, Simon, and Sonia had all had grandchildren, and while some of them had left to find their own lives outside of the Belmont tradition, many others had stayed on as hunters. And yet…most of the people there now knew Adrian as a grandfather. It was a little ridiculous when he thought about it. He looked far younger than them. But he was no longer their immediate family-they had parents and children of their own. His great-grandchildren, like little Elisabetha, stared at him in wonder but also confusion. They had difficulty understanding what this strange young man was to them. Sometimes, Adrian felt like a ghost in his own house.  
Sonia watched him quietly. Of all of the children they had raised as hunters, Sonia was the only one who favored the sword over the whip. Adrian had trained her himself, and though he didn’t like to choose favorites, she was the child he was closest to. When he decided that he had had enough, she was the one he came to first.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn’t like Adrian wanted to die. No, he’d promised Trevor, a long time ago in his father’s ruined castle, that he would never start going down that road again. He just wanted to sleep-to free himself, just a little from the endless forward march of time. Not forever.  
Adrian and Trevor has rebuilt the Belmont home, brick by brick and life by life. The idea of their legacy being reduced to ash again sometime in the future made him sick. He would be there, he decided, to help his descendants if they needed it, no matter how far in the future. But he couldn’t stand to live with them that long, watching his mortal family grow old and die. This was…an adequate compromise.  
It wasn’t even that odd of an idea. In fact, it was pretty common for vampires to hibernate once every century or so. Though their bodies didn’t age, living longer than the regular human life span was exhausting on the mind. Sleep kept madness from creeping in with age.  
But…most of his kind weren’t leaving mortal families behind. Adrian knew that this hibernation, in all likelihood, would carry him past the lifespans of all the Belmonts currently alive. He was, in a way, leaving them behind. Even Sonia, he and Trevor’s last living daughter.  
Adrian dreaded telling her. But, to his surprise, she smiled. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Parents shouldn’t have to bury their children,” she said knowingly. Though none of his children had inherited any of his genetics, in that moment Adrian could swear he saw his mother’s kind eyes looking back at him. Every so often, he saw things like that in his adopted children-Trevor’s laugh, his mother’s handwriting, the cadence of his father’s voice. Adrian was going to miss that.  
Telling the rest of the family had gone surprisingly easy as well. Really, he had lived with them much longer than a human grandfather or great-grandfather would. They understood, on some level, how tired he was.   
Together, he and Sonia arranged for a small chamber to be dug out in the Belmont hold. Somewhere where he could sleep undisturbed, but could be ready if he was needed to fight.  
“How will you know?” asked Sonia. Adrian had no answer for that. But some part of him felt confident that he would be able to sense a threat to the family. If not…well, they knew where to find him.  
And so he had found himself in a little room at the bottom of the Belmont hold, waiting to say goodbye to his last child. After they had started work on the room, Adrian and found himself wishing for the construction to take longer. Now that he was actually here, ready, he fought the urge to stall.  
Suddenly, he felt another hand on his arm. Sonia looked up at him from her wheelchair. “We’ll see each other again, Father,” she whispered. “We all will. I have faith in that.”  
Adrian smiled in spite of himself. He should be comforting her, not the other way around. And as he looked down at her, he felt like he was once again looking at the child he and Trevor had taken in. Time had taken its toll, but she was still there. Maybe Trevor was out there somewhere too. He bent down to kiss her forehead, as he did when all of his children were young, and then climbed into the darkness of the coffin, letting sleep take him again.


End file.
